


Who Has to Know, When We Live Such Fragile Lives?

by ifwallscouldspeak



Series: Ficlets for Skamofcolor's Season 1 Sanas [3]
Category: SKAM (Spain), Skam España - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/F, Fear of Coming Out, Missing Scene, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-09 13:53:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17408111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifwallscouldspeak/pseuds/ifwallscouldspeak
Summary: Nora’s eyes scan over her face, and for a second, Amira wonders what she’s thinking. If this is the moment that Nora asks her if she’s okay, if she wants to talk about it. It jars Amira slightly, reminding her of the very brief talk she had with Eva. If you have a problem with her, you know you can tell me. I got you. I know what it’s like to hide yourself from people. To feel judged, to feel lonely. I won’t tell anyone.What Nora says, though, surprises her even more.(A missing scene fic that takes place after the botellón where Amira asks Eva about what happened between her and Inés.)





	Who Has to Know, When We Live Such Fragile Lives?

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for skamofcolor's Season One “Sana” Appreciation Month, for JJanuary 22nd: Favorite Skamesp S1 Amira Ship. This takes place immediately after the botellón where Amira asks Eva about what happened between her and Inés.)
> 
> As always, all grammar, spelling and syntax errors are my own. I do not own Skam España. Title from "Dirty Little Secret" by All-American Rejects:
> 
> _Who has to know_  
>  When we live such fragile lives?  
> It's the best way we survive  
> I go around a time or two  
> Just to waste my time with you

+++

 

Amira double-checks her watch again, cursing at herself for staying for that last song. She walks briskly down the tunnel and back towards the main road, away from the music and booze. She’s already a few minutes late to meet her brother and his friends, and she’ll have to hurry so she doesn’t miss the next train. It’s not that she’ll get in trouble for being a bit late - they’ll probably appreciate it, to be honest, gives them an excuse to stay out later - but she hates the absolutely smug look on her brother’s face when she slips up even a little bit. _Ahhhh, look boys! Amirita thinks she’s grown, going to her new parties with her new friends!_

“Amira!”

She’s so caught up in her head that she almost misses Nora’s voice, trailing after her down the street.

“Amira! Slow down, girl!”

Amira doesn’t lessen her pace, but she does glance over her shoulder to shoot Nora a grin. Her friend is sprinting to catch up with her, hair swinging around her face and neck. Amira’s heart skips a couple of beats, and it has nothing to do with how fast she’s walking.

“Nora Grace! Ven acá!” Amira laughs, trying to sound like their P.E. teacher. “You’re much too slow, all the way in the back of the pack. They don’t run track in Wisconsin?”

Nora laughs, huffing as she makes it up to Amira, right as they reach the streetlight onto the main road. Amira grasps onto her messenger bag with one hand, making a sort of hook with her elbow; Nora slips her arm through it easily, her fingers dancing over the fabric of Amira’s jacket.

“Mind a travel buddy?” Nora asks. “You’re headed on the train, right?”

Amira nods, heart squeezing slightly. “Yeah. And I’d love the company, of course.”

“What a botellón, huh?” Nora says, shaking her head.

Amira smiles at her, her red lipstick just the slightest smudged. Amira lets her gaze linger on Nora’s mouth for a moment, before sliding her gaze away.

“Yeah,” Amira says. “All that truth or dare stuff was crazy.”

“Especially with you interrogating Eva,” Nora says, slightly disapprovingly.

“Hey!” Amira lifts up her hands in surrender; the move jostles Nora’s arm slightly, her skin brushing against Amira’s ribcage. “It wasn’t an interrogation.”

“It was like the Spanish Inquisition back there,” Nora says, and then chuckles slightly. “Get it? The _Spanish_ Inquisition -”

Amira manages to school her mouth into a thin line. “Yikes, Nora…”

“Yikes?”

Amira clears her throat. “Don’t you think that joke is… messed up? Considering I’m Muslim...”

She lets the silence sit between them as they wait to cross the street. Under the yellow light of the streets, she can see as all of the thoughts flit across Nora’s face. Her eyes suddenly widen, her red mouth dropping into an “O.”

“Oh, damn, Amira, I’m so sorry,” she says. “You know - I’m usually not so… is there a Spanish word for problematic?”

It’s the earnest, apologetic tone of her voice that makes Amira crack right open, from her ribcage up to her teeth. She flashes Nora a smile, eyes on Nora’s face. She loves watching the transition, the quick clarity of Nora realizing she’s being played. They cross the street and go towards the train station, still keeping up their brisk pace.

“Oh, haha!” Nora smirks back at her. “Real nice, Amira.”

“Well, I thought it was a bit deserving,” Amira says, raising her eyebrows a bit, “After everyone’s freak out over my call to prayer going off.”

Nora’s front teeth peek out slightly, white against the shiny red of her lipstick. “Yeah...”

They trip down the stairs together, and the awkward air between them isn’t feigned this time around. Amira eyes Nora out of the corner of her eyes, trying to push down the earlier hurt. But Nora’s head is down, her hair covering her face. Part of Amira wants to reach out, and push the strands behind her ears, fingers touching her soft cheek. But another part of her is angry, so angry that she wants to slide away from Nora, let her pale arm drop down into the space between them.  

Amira had masked it well, she knows; had made a quick remark about praying earlier and had rolled her eyes. But it had dredged up an old pain, and a constant worry. That she could be cool, she could party, she could be just like any other Spanish girl, as long as she didn’t… brandish her faith in their faces. She knew this would be an issue, she knew it the moment she decided to wear the hijab and keep her head up high.

She knew that there was a possibility that it would all be okay, if only she wasn’t _herself_.

She knew all of this, but it had still devastated her anyway, seeing the shuttered looks in her friends’ eyes.

The silence stretches until they get onto the platform. Amira knows Nora keeps sneaking peeks at her too, worried gazes. Nora obviously has something she wants to say, but is worried about how to say it, or how it might come out. She’s so… put together, Amira thinks. Beautiful and put together, always knowing the right thing to say. But not, it seems, in this moment.

So Amira does what she does best - she takes pity on her.

“But yah, how crazy was that, with Cris and Hugo?” she says, smiling.

Nora’s eyes scan over her face, and for a second, Amira wonders what she’s thinking. If this is the moment that Nora asks her if she’s okay, if she wants to talk about it. It jars Amira slightly, reminding her of the very brief talk she had with Eva. _If you have a problem with her, you know you can tell me._ I got you. I know what it’s like to hide yourself from people. To feel judged, to feel lonely. _I won’t tell anyone_.

What Nora says, though, surprises her even more.

“Not so crazy,” Nora says. “It seems like love is in the air...”

Amira laughs. “Oh you're talking about Eva and Jorge making out everywhere? I want to be snarky, but I can’t. They really seem in love, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” Nora says slyly, “But they’re not the only ones...”

“What, like Viri and Alejandro?” Amira shakes her head. “That’s another story…”

“Actually...”

“Hmm?”

“Actually, I meant more… about you…” Nora says.

Amira would swear that the color drains from her face in the span of a heartbeat. She stares at Nora, her lips tilted into a teasing smile. Amira’s lips part slightly as she stares at Nora’s mouth, wondering what they would look like if her lipstick was smudged even more. How would it feel, to have their mouths pressed together? Amira’s hands twitch again, the feeling of wanting to run her hands through Nora’s hair rising up in her.

And then -

And then.

Nora leans in, eyes looking dark. Amira wants to look around, wants to see if there’s anyone near them, but she can’t help but keep her eyes trained on Nora’s face. Her lips part and she says something - something about wanting to kiss during truth or dare - and Amira can barely breathe. She knows she needs to take a step back, but all she wants, all she desperately wants, is to move forward -

“I bet Dilan would love that too,” Nora says, giggling a bit.

Amira does take a step back, then. She knows it looks natural, just a twitch of the body; but she feels like she’s stumbling, falling, going down, uncertain and unsure and torn from the moment that she thought was happening. She can barely hear over her own heartbeat, but she thinks she manages to make a small, confused noise. It matches the erratic feeling pounding through her blood.

“It’s okay girl,” Nora says, elbowing Amira slightly in the ribcage. “I saw the way you were looking at him.”

“Looking at...” Amira’s eyebrows go up. “Looking at… him?”

“At Dilan?”

“At... Dilan.”

“Yeah, when he was pouring beer into Hugo’s mouth? And Jorge was egging them on?” Nora laughs. “You were staring at him like you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him...”

And Amira almost wants to laugh, but she can’t quite manage to do anything but stare.

“He’s such a cutie, I don’t blame you,” Nora says. “Have you - you know, talked to him?”

And this - she can’t stand it, not this. It’s so dumb and completely wrong, and she has no idea how to tell Nora that she wasn’t staring at Dilan because she has a crush on him. She was just looking at the boys, a hint of softness in her heart as she did. Because they were so much like her brother and their friends. The tenderness in her gaze was more about that then about any feelings she was harboring.

It meant nothing to the tenderness she felt, staring at Nora. But she couldn’t say that. How could she? How could she say, _I don’t feel that way about Dilan, but I do feel that way about you_? And it’s either coincidence or fate, but as Amira opens her mouth to say - to say what, she doesn’t even know - the warning signal for the train sounds. And Amira’s jogged out of her feelings, just in time.

Just like she always does, she lifts her shoulders up, and pastes a smile onto her face.

“I - I don’t know what you saw,” Amira says loudly over the train, “but it definitely wasn’t me gazing lovingly at Dilan.”

“What? Girl!”

Amira manages to laugh. “Don’t what me! Nora!”

“You can tell me you know,” Nora says teasingly. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Dilan is great,” Amira says. “But I promise. I’m not harboring any secret feelings for him.”

The train rolls into the station, and Nora gives Amira one last conspiratorial wink. It hurts more than it probably should, but it’s what keeps Amira’s mouth shut. It’s what helps her push her feelings way deep down. Because she doesn’t want to lose this. She can’t lose this, this friendship, this care. 

She can’t.

 

+++


End file.
